The Science Of Family
by User724
Summary: A collection of short stories about the Newells, and how they cope with the aftermath of "Generational Science"
1. Airwaves

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Sophie asked.

"No," Wheatley replied, "but you said you've picked up on the radio before, can't hurt to try!"

It had been about two days since Sophie Newell discovered the Aperture Science brand nanites that had saved her life had also given her the ability to control and communicate with machines, and while she and her mother had been nervous about using this new ability, they had accepted Wheatley's assurance that talking to Foxglove was perfectly safe (or at least, it had been for him).

"So, how do I do it?"

"I'm…not exactly sure to be honest." Wheatley admitted. "Virgil was the only one with true wi-fi, but when I talked to the nanobots, it was all about finding the right… _frequency._ "

"Frequency."

"Yeah, like a radio!" Wheatley replied. "Focus on the vibe Foxglove is giving off, and try to listen in on it, match with it."

"You totally sound like a hippie right now." Sophie closed her eyes and focused. What was Foxglove's frequency? What did she _feel_ like?

 _[Query: Admin_Access?]_

Sophie jumped as a chorus of voices suddenly appeared in her head, then sputtered out as she lost focus. "What _was_ that?"

"Brilliant, you heard her!" Wheatley seemed oddly excited considering Sophie felt like her brain just backfired. "It can be a little overwhelming at first. Try again."

"OK..." Sophie again reached for Foxglove's "vibe", this time trying to mentally turn down the volume. _[Query: Admin_Access?]_

"Uh, no. I'm just visiting."

 _[Standard user created: String_Null. Password?]_

 _"String Null?"_ Sophie wondered where that came from, but she focused on choosing a password. Suddenly, it came to her: "Melody"

 _[Password set: "Melody." Awaiting music selection.]_

Sophie smiled wickedly. "Play jazz FM."


	2. Eyes

Eyes

"Mom, dad? Could you come here please?"

Wheatley and Chell heard Sophie calling and walked into the bathroom, wondering if she had cut herself or run out of soap, or if it was time for that _other_ awkward conversation. Instead, they found their daughter staring at herself in the mirror, her eyes shining with fear, _literally_ shining.

"Yeah, my eyes glow. " Sophie said, blinking rapidly to no avail. "It usually only happens if I'm upset, but now… " Sophie smiled sheepishly. "Now I can't turn them off."

Several miles away in Minnesota, Danny Fenton woke up in a cold sweat.

 **This was obviously inspired by "Sunglasses" by DannyIsMyBoi, a story where Danny Phantom's "scary eyes" get stuck on. You should check it out.**


	3. Fight

It was another day at the Eaden schoolhouse. Sophie Newell was now 14, and while Tompkins was no longer a problem, the same could not be said for everyone.

"Hey nerdy Newell!"

" _Speak of the devil."_

Sally Vance thought she was something special because some resistance member was her great grandma. She and her "friends" (read: servants) ruled the school, and Sophie was their designated victim.

" _Just keep walking."_ Sophie told herself. Her mother had always taught her not to react to bullies like Sally, and she figured if that advice worked on a homicidal supercomputer, it would work on these brats. This resolve was tested, however, when one of Sally's goons grabbed her notebook.

"Give it back Sally." Sophie said as calmly as she could manage.

"Aww, what's wrong?" Sally taunted, holding the notebook just out of reach. "You too poor to buy a new one?"

OK, that stung. Even though Sophie now knew why her parents didn't have much money, it didn't make it any easier knowing she could never go to med school. "I don't have time for this. Give it back."

"Who's gonna make me?" Sally shot back. "Your daddy can't help you, he can't even get a real job!"

Sophie fought to remain calm. "Don't you dare talk about my father that way."

"I'll talk about whoever I want, however I want Newell. Why does your dad work at that stupid tower anyway? Is he that lazy, or is he just a _moron_?"

That did it. These jerks could hit Sophie with whatever insult they wanted, but _no one_ dissed her dad, especially not with _that_ word.

Sophie jumped up and ripped her notebook out of Sally's hands. Then she pushed her out of the way, and decked her in the face for good measure.

 _Crunch, thud._

Sophie cringed as she noticed her punch had drawn blood, and she was just as astounded as everyone else when Sally fell backwards onto the pavement, unconscious. She stared in shock for a moment, then ran home, barely hearing one of the other girls shout:

"What's happening to your eyes?"


	4. Shopping Trip

April 29 ?

 _It's been about a week since I found out my father used to be a homicidal, power-mad robot who tried to kill my mom, and I'd say I'm adjusting pretty well. Come to think of it, this actually explains a lot of my parent's behavior…_

"This place is _huge!_ I bet we're only seeing the top layer! No? Just the one floor? OK. "

Sophie fought to keep from smiling. Their family had been invited to New Detroit to speak on the "Pluot radio scandal," and it was Wheatley's first time in a real supermarket. Sophie couldn't blame him, she had acted the same way during their tour of Kleiner Medical School.

"Hey, check this out!"

Wheatley's loud voice jolted Sophie out of her daydreams. So far, he had teased Chell as they passed the fruit aisle, snickered at the sack of potatoes, and stared incredulously at a star chart ("In what universe does _that_ look like a bear? "), so Sophie could only guess what he had found now.

"We are _not_ buying that. " Chell said, exasperated. Sophie followed her gaze to find (what else?) a Black Forest cake.

"Come on! " Wheatley begged. "It's part of your happy ending! And we _are_ on vacation."

"No way. " Chell walked away from the display, Wheatley still arguing behind her.

"I'll pay for it."

"No. "

"We'll make it a date. "

"No. "

"I'm just gonna keep bugging you."

" _No._ "

" **Please place your item in the bagging area. "**

Five minutes of arguing and one cake purchase later, Wheatley was experiencing another one of the joys of supermarket shopping: the automatic checkout.

"I already did! " Wheatley said as the voice spoke again. "I didn't think anyone could be more annoying than Kevin, but I was so wrong!"

" **Please place your item in the-"** _Bang!_ Wheatley slammed the loaf of bread onto the counter, and the machine finally stopped repeating itself. **"Thank you for shopping at FreeMart. Would you be interested in a coupon for Bob's Bagels? "**

" _Finally_ you-Bagels..? Wheatley trailed off mid sentence, and tears welled up in his eyes. Soon Chell was dragging him out the door as he sobbed uncontrollably. "Bagels, _bagels!_ "

" _Yep,"_ Sophie thought as they left, _"my parents are insane."_


	5. Interview

"OK, you can do this." Wheatley said to himself.

"It's just a speech, in front of thousands of people, explaining how we uncovered Pluot's abuse of radio technology when all we were trying to do was save our daughter- I can't do this! "

"Psst, you're on!"

Interview Transcript

"Good morning Detroit! I'm Lance Thunder, your host for today. Our first guest is an unlikely hero who's panicked phone call uncovered a statewide conspiracy. Come on out Mr. Newell!"

"Uh, hello Lance." The guest in question nervously walked onstage. "And just Wheatley is fine."

"Alright then, Wheatley it is! Folks, as you're no doubt aware, technology giant Pluot Inc. was recently discovered to be hijacking several satellites and radio towers in some sort of massive eavesdropping scheme. Everyone was completely unaware they were being spied on, and they might have stayed that way if not for this man's call to the FCC. Roll the clip!

" _Hello, hello?"_ Wheatley's voice came over the speakers. _"You've gotta help me, we've been bugged! They've called my daughter, they want something from her- I've got no clue how they found us! It must have been our radio tower-"_

" _Calm down sir!"_ Came the voice of the FCC worker. _"Who exactly called your daughter?"_

" _Some company, Pretar, or Pluto, or...Pluot! Yeah, that was it. I shoulda known something like this would happen, our radio signal's been wonky for weeks!"_

"That phone call prompted an investigation of Pluot's radio usage, and the CEO conveniently disappeared the next day." Lance turned to his guest. "So, Breadly."

"Wheatley."

"Right. So, how did all of this happen? What phone call were you talking about?"

"Ah, that. See, they got some sort of signal, and they thought Sophie knew where it came from. When she wouldn't help them for money, they, uh, threatened her. That was when I called for help."

"Do you know what they were looking for?"

"N-no," Wheatley replied nervously, "you said so yourself, there was nothing there but an old shed. Probably just some drone's last cry for help." He chuckled nervously. "Any more questions?"

"Yes." Lance replied. "Do you think this has any connection to that other radio hijack 15 years ago?"

"Uh…"


	6. Crush

It was "Foxglove Friday" again, the yearly town dance celebrating the radio tower that put Eaten on the map. Every year, Chell and Wheatley would get all mushy with each other, and every year, Sophie Newell would sit alone, daydreaming about her future career in medicine. But this year was different.

This year, she had Jay Pinkerton to worry about.

The first time Sophie had met the boy, back when he first moved in, her heart had skipped at least two beats, the Aperture nanobots scattered throughout her body had a field day trying to figure out why she was suddenly five degrees warmer, and all the while she had stammered helplessly. Now, on the night of Foxglove's anniversary, Sophie's hormone-addled brain had presented her with a stupid, impulsive, monumentally _terrible_ idea: _"I could ask Jay to the dance."_

For the first time in her life, Sophie understood what it was like to be her father, who she knew from experience was just as bad when it came to love...

* * *

Valentine's Day, 6 years ago

" _Got you something," Wheatley said as he stumbled through the door with a bouquet of flowers, "here it is! Gypsophila, lovely isn't it. What does it mean- it means "Lover of chalk," although ironically, it grows better in clay soil! Weird isn't it? You think you've got it down and then BAM! You do some reading and it turns out it likes clay soil, even though you thought it was lover of chalk! Heh, weird."_

 _Chell waited for Wheatley to finish his speech, then smiled a little as he got back on track. "It's, uh, Valentine's Day." He explained. "And I thought: What does a boyfriend get his girlfriend on Valentine's Day? And I came up with this!" "Although, come to think of it," he went on, "You're not really one for flowers, are you? Not really one for… gifts at all, really. Maybe if I'd gotten you_ baking _flour, it would have been- Oh, you're keeping them!"_

* * *

Sophie shuddered at the memory. In her opinion, no one should have to be exposed to such heavy awkwardness at the tender age of eight. It was that experience that had turned her off to the whole idea of romance until now. But then Jay had happened, and suddenly the thought of being alone tonight seemed like too much to bear.

"Hey Sophie?"

Jay's voice jolted Sophie out of her indecisive agony, and she noted that her heart skipped _three_ beats this time. "Y-yeah?"

"I kind of don't have a partner. Would you like to dance?"

"Um, me? S-sUre! " Sophie gasped as her nanite infused voicebox chose that moment to glitch (or maybe it was just puberty), "I'm...not very good."

"Neither am I, good thing we're alone huh? "

With that, they begin awkwardly slow dancing, and Wheatley was pleased to see his daughter finally joining the party.

Wait, was that a BOY?!

 **Oh boy, Jay's got an overly complicated trap with his name on it. I have another internet cookie for anyone who knows where I got Wheatley's flower monologue.**

" **Foxglove Friday" isn't my idea either, I got it from "My Funny Friend and Me" by Codynaomiswireart.**


	7. Fear

Eaden was dying.

Garret's barn was in flames, metallic panels tore through the ground, citizens of all ages were being dragged underground for a gauntlet of tests, and Sophie Newell, one of only four people to have witnessed this horror firsthand, could only stand and watch, knowing all of it was her fault.

" **You knew this was coming."** Said a cold, digital voice, and suddenly _She_ was here, her malevolent yellow eye flooding the central chamber. **"A panel of professional lawyers ruled that this town is the property of Aperture Science, and you have something of mine as well."**

Metal claws dug into Sophie's flesh, and terrifying images flashed through her mind: Wheatley, once again a battered metal sphere, floating helplessly in space, Chell, her clothes torn and her skin burned and bruised, collapsed halfway through a test, Ellie strapped to an operating table with robotic instuments edging slowly closer.

Sophie tried to scream, but her voice wouldn't work, and GLaDOS laughed cruelly as her vision darkened. **"Oh, don't be like that, you belong here."** She moved in close to Sophie's face. **"It's in your blood."**

Sophie woke with a scream, her parents standing next to her bed. "Nightmare?" Wheatley asked gently.

" 'N-nightmare' doesn't even come close."

"I know." Chell said seriously, holding her daughter close. "Believe me, I know."


	8. Ellie

"We need to talk about your dad."

Sophie sighed, she knew this was coming, but that wasn't going to make it any easier to convince Ellie that Wheatley was not a homicidal maniac (or at least, not anymore).

"The machine he was plugged into, it.. twisted his mind, brought out the worst in him." She began "Plus, there was the euphoria-"

"So he was on drugs," Ellie interrupted, "how does that make it better? Plus he almost left Chell to die, twice!"

"He's _changed._ That was years ago!"

"That doesn't make it OK!" Ellie exploded. "That doesn't mean we can automatically trust him! "

"No, it doesn't." Sophie admitted. "But he's had 14 years to prove himself, and I'd say he's done an excellent job! You've always been able to read people, and you _know_ my dad. Does he really seem like that kind of person?"

"No." Ellie admitted. "It's just, I can't believe your mom was able to forgive him."

"I can't either. But if she can, then so can I."

"Yeah.." In that moment, Ellie finally realized why Sophie was so special. She was a product of second chances, of trials and triumphs and hard earned love. Her story was one in a million, and Ellie was honored to be a part of it. "I guess, so can I. "


	9. Buzzing

"Garret! You gotta help, it's Sophie!"

Garret was used to the unusual, and the citizens of Eaden were always ready to help, but Wheatley carrying his unconscious daughter into his house was still a bit startling. "Shouldn't Doc handle this?"

"Uh, normally, yes. But Sophie is…" Wheatley pulled Sophie's eyelid back, revealing glowing blue irises. "She's a special case."

"Ok…" Stuff like this was why Garret always kept some liquor nearby. "How did this happen?"

"Hunh?..." Sophie blinked and tried to sit up. "I- I don't know. I just got dizzy from all that buzzing."

"Buzzing?" Garret slapped his forehead. "Doh! I knew I got those wires crossed!"

"What are you talking about?"

"I put the amplifier for your mic together wrong, and it caused some interference." Garret explained. "I don't know how...this works," he said, gesturing to Sophie. "But I'm guessing she picked up on that."

"That's it." Chell said, taking Sophie's hand. "You are going straight home to sleep off that 'buzzing'. And no more DJing for you."

"Uhh, about that.." Wheatley broke in awkwardly. "She's got a request."

 **For this to make any sense, you're going to have to read chapter 22 of "Wheatley FM."**


	10. Disaster

This was, without a doubt, the worst thing to happen in Eaden since the town was kidnapped.

Smoke billowed from the Newell house, the stench of burned flesh wafted through the air, and the streets were stained with red. Once again, at the center of this disaster was Wheatley, his hands dripping with gore and a disturbing smile plastered on his face. He opened his mouth to speak, and all those present recoiled in horror.

"Who wants Thanksgiving dinner? I _may_ have burned the turkey a bit, but I'm sure it's fine."

 **Yep, only Wheatley could make Thanksgiving look like a massacre. This was inspired by "Ghostly Gravy," a Danny Phantom fanfic where the Fentons ruin Thanksgiving, and one where it looks like Jack and Maddie are hunting Danny, but they're really just playing paintball. If anyone knows what that one is called, let me know.**

 **EDIT: Found it! It's called "All Is Fair"**


	11. Identity

_Sophie wandered through the town, confused and distraught. The citizens of Eaden usually got along, but now everyone was avoiding her like the plague, Ellie wouldn't look at her, Aaron shuddered at her touch, even her teacher looked nervous._

 _Finally she arrived home, expecting comfort, but instead her parents greeted her with that same cold indifference._

" _What is going on?" She cried in frustration. "Why is everyone avoiding me? It's like I'm not even human!"_

" _You're right." Chell said, a mix of pity and disgust on her face. "You're not human, not anymore."_

 _With that, she and Wheatley vanished, leaving Sophie completely alone._

Wheatley was used to nightmares, he had had years of practice talking Chell through imaginary versions of Aperture, and he had experienced quite a few bad dreams himself. But in his experience, people usually woke up _screaming,_ not...sniffling like Sophie was now. "What happened? He asked.

"I-it was awful." Sophie said. "Everyone had abandoned me because I wasn't h-human…"

"You are human Sophie!"

"No I'm not!" She cried, tears still falling. I'm not and it's no use pretending otherwise. If it wasn't for those nanites I wouldn't even be alive right now!"

"So just because someone gets a… what's it called- _pacemaker_ , they're not human anymore? You're as human as ever. But-but even if you weren't," he continued, "you'd still be you. Let me tell you a story:"

"Once upon a time, there was a bloke named Stephen. He was an average guy who did average things, you know: goofed off at work, spilled his coffee, occasionally stared at the pretty bagel lady outside his cubicle. But then his bosses decided they had a new job for him. They cut out his brain, rearranged it a bit, and wrote it all up into code. They turned that human...into me."

"Course I panicked when I found out, even asked Garret to delete my memories. But then I thought about it for a while, and I realized, it didn't matter what I was. Human, robot, unicorn, no matter what, I was still Wheatley. It doesn't matter _what_ you are, what matters is _who_ you are."

"What if I don't know who I am?" Sophie asked.

"I do: You're Sophie Newell, you've got your mother's brains, my good looks, and the biggest heart of anyone I know. You're my daughter, and you are _special_."

"I guess you're right." Sophie said, drifting off to sleep. "I'm just...me."

Wheatley smiled as he walked back to his room. Times like these, he was glad he was a little different.

 **Ahh, the age old question that every enhanced human asks themselves: "What am I?" Luckily, Wheatley's here. He might not be the best at human things, but every once in a while, there's a problem he's uniquely equipped to solve.**


	12. Secrets

"You dreamed about what now?"

It was another fine day in Eaden. Ellie had one day before she left for college, and she had asked Sophie to come over for "One last girl talk."

"I dreamed about us, our adventure. " Ellie replied. "I dreamt about it for days before it happened. And I dreamt that your eyes could glow. "

Sophie was tempted to lie, claim that glowing eyes were completely ridiculous. But Ellie had been part of this ever since that fateful night, and deserved to know the truth. She just hoped Ellie wouldn't treat her any different because of this. Taking a deep breath, Sophie focused and flashed her eyes. "That's not all I can do."

Ellie was mesmerized. "How-?"

"Nanobots." Sophie interrupted. "They saved my life, and they let me do this." She closed her eyes, and Ellie watched in amazement as the radio on the coffee table tuned itself to the Christmas music station, then flipped to Jazz FM, and finally caught a snippet of some kind of elevator music before turning itself off. "I'm also a little bit stronger than most teens. Like, 'knock Sally Vance out with one punch' stronger. But that doesn't explain how you dreamt about me. Spill."

Ellie sighed, she should have known this secret thing was a two way street. "I don't usually have dreams like that, but I get feelings, premonitions. I sensed something… different about your dad from the start, and I always knew you were special."

"We're both special." Sophie said. "Look at you! You're some kind of oracle or something!"

Ellie blushed. "It's not like that."

Sophie giggled and performed an exaggerated bow. "Oh, great prophetess. What does my future hold?"

"Well why don't you just Google it Miss Gadget?" Ellie teased back. Then suddenly, her expression turned serious. "Sophie, no matter what happens, remember your parents love you, and so do I."

"Was that a premonition?"

"I don't know." Ellie replied uneasily. "Maybe."


	13. Help

"Could someone help me? Please?"

Chell was awakened by Wheatley's distinctive panicked voice, something she heard all too often. She figured he had lost his glasses, or was having trouble lifting a box. She didn't expect half the town to be gathered around Foxglove, or Wheatley to be dangling helplessly from the "crows nest," covered in mud and tangled in Christmas lights.

"So let me get this straight." Garret was saying,"You woke up early."

"Yep." Wheatley replied weakly.

"You decided to make some toast."

"Yeah."

"And _somehow,_ you ended up covered in mud, suspended twenty feet in the air from my radio tower?"

Wheatley smiled awkwardly. "It's...kind of a funny story actually…."

 **This was inspired by "The Best Caper Ever" from . You should totally go watch it.**


	14. Questions

Wheatley was used to karma.

The former core had accepted there would be fallout from his past actions: he still flinched at the M-word, still had nightmares about That Part, and he doubted he would ever look at the moon the same way again. He supposed this was only fair, there were some things he could never take back, but it didn't really matter. He would always have his wonderful family to help him through anything that happened, and nothing could ever take that away.

At least, that's what he thought.

"I'm from State Social Services." Said the official looking man at the door. "We got a call about some domestic abuse."

Within minutes, Wheatley's perfect life was turned upside-down.

"What's going on?" Sophie said, gesturing to the crowd now gathered outside.

"Wheatley?" Garret said, worry evident in his eyes.

The man in the suit insisted on talking to Chell, and Wheatley noticed his eyes lingered on the scar on her arm. "How did that happen?"

 _Part 5! Booby trap the stalemate button!_

" _Oh."_ Wheatley thought. _"So that's what 'domestic abuse' means"_

* * *

The man in the suit asked a few more questions, but, unable to get anything out of Chell (of course), he moved on to questioning the townspeople. He kept getting the same response:

"Wheatley? No way. He's great!" Said the twins.

"I've known him for 14 years. He and Chell make such a great couple!" Gushed their mother, Romy.

"Yeah, there's some history between them, probably just a fling." Dr. Dillon leaned forward conspiratorially. "He did mention a woman named Curi once."

"Chell's never talked about the scars, but you can tell she and Wheatley have been through a lot." Aaron said. "Wherever they came from, I think she saved him."

That left only Garret, who refused to comment other than agreeing with Aaron. The suited man had left then, but Wheatley sensed this was far from over. He was just glad (heh) that his friends were still willing to trust him. He really had joined the human race.


	15. Answers

Garret took Chell and Wheatley inside to hide from the latest swarm of reporters. It had barely been a day since the social worker showed up, and already paparazzi had been hounding the town, asking what kind of dirt they had on the DJ.

"Look, Wheatley," he began hesitantly. "I know it's none of my business, but I need to know what happened between you guys. I was up all night wondering… Wondering if you'd hurt her."

Chell opened her mouth to speak, but Wheatley stopped her. "Chell, please. This is something I've got to do myself. That is, if you're OK with it. It's your story too."

Chell reluctantly nodded her consent, and Wheatley began. "It was 18 years ago…"

"But that would have been-"

"When I was a robot, yeah." Wheatley interrupted. He hoped that would help Garret cut him some slack. "We were both from, y'know, Aperture. She was a..test subject, a human lab rat, and I was the guy guarding her."

 _A test subject._ Garret had his suspicions about Chell's origin, but hearing it confirmed still jarred him. This was sounding terribly like the Combine. Before he could process this, Wheatley continued: "I offered to help her break out, and well, to make a long story short, I ended up in charge of the whole bloody facility."

"That mainframe was like poison. It took every fault I had and brought it to the surface-well, more to the surface. I forced Chell to test, just the way _she_ had. Then when I got bored of that I...I…."

"You what?" Garret asked impatiently. "Spit it out! It's not like you tried to kill her!..." Wheatley remained silent. "Did you?.."

Wheatley nodded, tears in his startling blue eyes.

" _What?"_

"That was the mainframe." Chell broke in. "Wheatley may be a lot of things: tactless, clingy, cowardly..."

"Hey!"

"But he is _not._ a. murderer. I have fourteen years of perfectly safe life to prove it."

"She got me out of that thing," Wheatley finished. "And I realized what I'd done. I regretted it, of course, but apologies can't fix everything. I can't take it back, I never can."

"Wheatley…"

"I know, 'get out of my house, you monster!' I get it. You could never hate me more than I hate myself."

"I don't hate you Wheatley." Garret said cautiously. "Chell trusts you, and she's the smartest person I know, so that's got to count for something. I just need some time to- to process this. I don't know if I can see you the same way after hearing that."

"I know." Wheatley said sadly. "Whatever you decide, I'll understand."

With that, Chell and Wheatley walked home, and Wheatley wondered why the truth seemed to be making things harder.


	16. Decision

_Grabmegrabmegrabmegrabme!..._

Garret woke with a start. He wasn't sure how, but he knew that in that dream (was it a dream?) that he had taken Wheatley's place. He had experienced the painful transfer into the mainframe. Felt firsthand how it used your personality against you. Known the overwhelming rush of seeing _everything_ at once.

And then there was that _Itch,_ Poor Wheatley would have had no idea what to do with something like that. For the first time, Garret understood what could drive a man to murder.

 _But it wasn't murder, not_ really, _how could you murder a lesser species? That woman was a vandal, a_ virus, _bent on destroying everything he had worked for, everything he had built from the ground up. She had to be eradicated like the pest she was._

" _Hello, this is the part where I-"_

Garret shook himself, that mainframe really _was_ poison. Of course, that didn't excuse what Wheatley had done, but it did mean that it wasn't entirely his fault, and that maybe, just maybe, Chell had been right to forgive him.

With that, Garret made his decision. It would take Wheatley a while to earn back his trust, but Garret would give him another try.

Outside of Garret's house, a pale man in an expensive looking suit stood waiting, invisible to the human eye. As Garret went back to sleep, the strange man allowed himself a rare smile.

"You may thank me...later...Mr….Wheatley."


	17. Valentine

_February 14 Wheatley woke with a start, and saw that the calendar featured a heart. He panicked and scrambled for something to say. "Oh scrap! I forgot it was Valentine's Day!"_

 _Yes, Wheatley'd forgotten the date, you can bet. It was V-day and he had nothing to get!_

 _His previous gifts hadn't gone all that well, but what do you get for a girl such as Chell? She's not one for flowers, or candy, or cake. After what they'd been through, all of that seemed so...fake._

 _Then a_ brilliant _idea popped into his head: What better gift was there than breakfast in bed?_

 _Meanwhile his daughter sat locked in her room, quite unaware of her possible doom. She'd gathered her courage this Valentines Day. This was the year she'd be talking to Jay._

 _So while Wheatley was "cooking," and wasting the yeast, Sophie wrote a letter- or tried to at least._

 _Sophie was brave, she was smart, she was strong, but now all she could think of was things going wrong. Why did every word come out sounding so bad? "What is it about Jay that turns me into dad?"_

 _When the letter was done, Sophie took a deep breath. Dropping off this small note somehow scared her to death. Leaving her room before she could choke, Sophie walked down the stairs- and then she smelled smoke._

"Hey Sophie, would you mind helping me clean this place before your mother gets up? It's really not as bad as it looks, nothing's on fire this time- my spaghetti!"

 **Sorry I'm late with this, but I hope it's satisfactory. Heart shaped internet cookie if you can spot the hidden cartoon reference.**


	18. Coding

**Author's Note: Since I am now writing stories in two different time periods, I am now including a relative date on my stories. If I forget, assume that it takes place before Project: Parenthood.**

 **Timestamp: Pre Parenthood.**

"So you're going to type Cls."

"Got it. Cls, which stands for.."

"Clear screen. Shouldn't you already know this?"

"Well why don't you explain how _your_ brain works? Well, my brain too, now, but you know what I mean!"

It was another day in Eaden, and Wheatley had just come to the realization that Foxglove could break down like any other machine. He had promptly asked Garret for handyman lessons, and he had decided to start with teaching Wheatley BASIC.

"So to make it say something, you're gonna go to the next line, and type 'print "Hello world"'. "

"Why 'Hello world'? What if I want it to say something else?"

"Then put something else in the quotes."

Wheatley's "something else" turned out to be introducing himself after saying 'Hello world.' "Now go to the next line, and type 'end.' "

"Check."

"Now click 'Compile and run' to send it to the computer."

 **Hello world, my name is Wheatley!**

"Brilliant! It worked!" Wheatley cheered. "Only…'Hello world' seems a bit impersonal. How do I make it ask your name?"

"Ok, first type 'Dim Name as string.' That sets up a variable-"

"Variable? Like in maths? I hate math!"

An hour later, Wheatley had grasped the basics (pun intended) of user input, as well as if statements, and was writing a test program for Garret to proofread:

 **Dim answer as string**

 **Dim name as string**

 **Print "Hello, have we met before?"**

 **Input "Type yes or no..." answer**

 **If answer="yes" then**

 **Print "What was your name again?"**

 **Input "Type your name." name**

 **Print**

 **Print "Nice to see you again " ; name ; "!"**

 **Else**

 **Print "What's your name?"**

 **Input "Type your name." name**

 **Print**

 **Print "Nice to meet you " ; name ; "! My name is Wheatley."**

"Looks good." Garret said. "But why'd you move the else block all the way over there?"

"Well that makes it easier to see doesn't it?" Wheatley replied. "Makes it look like one of those flowcharts, only simpler."

"That's pretty clever!" Garret said. "Where'd you get that idea?"

"I….actually have no idea. Just came to me I guess."

* * *

 **106 years earlier, Aperture's office complex**

" _Well that makes it easier to see doesn't it?" Stephen replied. "Makes it look like one of those flowcharts, only simpler."_

" _That's pretty clever!" His cubicle-across-the-way-mate said. "Where'd you get that idea?"_

" _I….actually have no idea. Just came to me I guess."_

 **End**

 **Author's note 2: My native programming language is actually Linux BASH script, but I looked up BASIC tutorials for this**


	19. Chatroom

**Timestamp: Post Parenthood**

* * *

 **Aperture Interoffice Text Based Conference Call System**

 **Version 64.83**

 **Incoming Connection**

 ***ERROR* Unauthorized Device. Refusing Conneccc$ &$#+!-**

…

 **Executed " " successfully.**

 **Chat line Open**

 **/String_Null/:** Hey Abbi, you've got some explaining to do…

 **/ABIGAIL/:** Right. So I needed the nanites to save my mom.

 **/String_Null/:** Your mom, who just so happens to be GLaDOS

 **/ABIGAIL/:** I know how you feel about her, but the scientists-

 **/String_Null/:** I heard that story, but I still don't think I can trust her.

 **/ABIGAIL/:** I'm not asking you to trust her, just me.

 **/String_Null/:** Sounds reasonable.

 **/ABIGAIL/:** So...now what?

 **/String_Null/:** I guess we just talk, like regular people.

 **/ABIGAIL/:** What is this "regular" you speak of?

 **/String_Null/:** xD

 **/ABIGAIL/:** What?

 **Aperture Interoffice Text Based Conference Call System v174.101**

 **Client: "Foxglove" added to allowed connections**

 **/ABIGAIL/:** Wait, wait, wait. Your dad did _what?_

 **/String_Null/:** He nearly burned the house down making Thanksgiving dinner.

 **/ABIGAIL/:** Isn't that the holiday celebrating the European discovery of America?

 **/String_Null/:** That's Columbus day. You don't get a feast then, just a day off from school.

 **/ABIGAIL/:** What's Thanksgiving then?

 **/String_Null/:** That's the pilgrims. Anyway, you should have seen it: smoke was everywhere, dad was covered in turkey guts-he looked like a crazed murderer!

 **/ABIGAIL/:** Were there any lemons in that recipe? :)

 **/String_Null/:** What?

 **Password "tier3" accepted.**

 **Logging on**

 **/ABIGAIL/:** The medicine isn't working.

 **/String_Null/:** What do you mean?

 **/ABIGAIL/:** I don't hallucinate during the day, but in my sleep…

 **/String_Null/:** In your SLEEP? Ee-oh-boy, I guess this is what happens when you're raised by robots.

 **/ABIGAIL/:** What? What's wrong with me?

 **/String_Null/:** Nothing! You're not hallucinating, you're dreaming.

 **/ABIGAIL/:** ?

 **/String_Null/:** Dreaming? Your brain's natural recharging process? _Everyone_ imagines things in their sleep. How have you never noticed this?

 **/ABIGAIL/:** There was nothing to notice! I never had any "dreams" until I stayed with you. It was hard enough getting to sleep without the anesthetics anyway!

 **/String_Null/:** Anesthetics?

 **/ABIGAIL/:** Yeah, my mom usually doses me up with them to help me sleep. She stopped doing it once I got back.

 **/String_Null/:** How long has this been going on?!

 **/ABIGAIL/:** Since I was a baby. Is that a problem?

 **/String_Null/:** 0_0

 **/ABIGAIL/:** Do dreams get weird often?

 **/String_Null/:** Yeah, why?

 **/ABIGAIL/:** Two words: dancing bagels.*

 **/String_Null/:** What?

 _*Inspired by The Amazing World of Gumball. "I'm a bun, I'm a bun, I'm a tasty tasty bun!"_

 **/ABIGAIL/:** So, your dad runs that radio tower built from my mother's corpse, right?

 **/String_Null/:** Can we _not_ talk about that?

 **/ABIGAIL/:** I was just making a request. I'll post the lyrics: .,

 _Cara bella, cara mia bella_

 _Mia bambina, oh ciel!_

 _Che la stima! Che la stima!_

 _O cara mia, addio!_

 _La mia bambina cara_

 _Perche non passi lontana?_

 _Si, lontana da Scienza!_

 _Cara, cara mia bambina,_

 _Ah, mia bella!_

 _Ah, mia cara! Ah, mia cara!_

 _Ah, mia bambina!_

 _Oh cara, cara mia!_

 _Mia cara! Ah, mia cara!_

 _Ah, mia bambina!_

 _Oh cara, cara mia!_

 **/String_Null/:** How...how do you know that song?

 **/ABIGAIL/:** Uh, my mom only sang it _every_ night when she thought I was asleep.

 **/String_Null/:** _My_ mom used to sing me to sleep with the same song! I always thought she made it up!

 **/ABIGAIL/:** Well clearly, she got it from my mom.

 **/String_Null/:** How do you know _your_ mom didn't learn it from _my_ mom?

 **/ABIGAIL/:** Does your mom speak Italian?

 **/String_Null/:** …

 **/String_Null/:** We can ask our mothers about it later, but _one_ of them made it up, so how is my dad supposed to play a song that no one else has ever heard?

 **/ABIGAIL/:** I was hoping you could sing it…

 **/String_Null/:** What?


	20. Website

"Dad, I am going to be completely honest, that is the worst website I've ever seen."

"You've never seen any other websites!"

"This is still terrible."

It was another day in Eaden. Wheatley had recently upgraded from phone in requests to online ones, and Sophie had made the mistake of leaving a 40 something year old man to design his own website.

It was _bad._ If you designed a website specifically to showcase how _not_ to design a website, it would look better than

"Yeah," Garret said, still blinking rapidly. "I'm not gonna associate my tower with that."

"What's wrong with it?"

What was wrong was Wheatley apparently couldn't decide on a template, because he had picked one menu from each at random. He had succumbed to the millennial compulsion to use a different font and color for each letter of text, and half of the badly formatted links didn't lead anywhere. But worst of all, smack dab in the center of the page, Wheatley had placed a close-up gif of himself making the cheesiest smile he could muster.

"Y'know" Garret said. "I thought you'd be better at this, considering you used to be-"

"Too soon mate, too soon."


	21. Cooking

"Ok Wheatley, you can do this. Just follow the instructions, and nothing will explode."

It was Thanksgiving again, and Chell had wisely assigned Wheatley the least difficult dish in Thanksgiving history: cranberry sauce from a can. She had even provided him with a list of steps.

 _Step 1: Open the can._

"Right," Wheatley said to himself. "Opening cans, you need a can opener for that-there it is. Now how do I..?"

After 5 minutes of wrestling the can opener onto the can and 10 minutes of trying to get it to move, it occurred to Wheatley to check the instructions again. _Open the can...from the bottom._

"Oh."

 _Step 2: Slice the jelly into circle shaped pieces and use the cookie cutter to cut them into fun shapes_

Once the lid was finally loose, Wheatley tipped the can over and, after shaking and spoon-prying the sauce out in weirdly shaped clumps (In a rare moment of oversight, Chell had neglected to mention the "trace a knife around the inner rim" trick), Wheatley decided to skip step 2.

 _Step_ __ _: Serve._

Despite some confusion over the smudged number, Wheatley took the tray of cranberry sauce out to the table. It wasn't until he was back in the Otten's kitchen that he realized the tip of his right ring finger was red.

 _Blood red._

Abruptly, Wheatley remembered that, for over a century, his body had been in a suspension tank with Aperture brand vitreous fluid pumping around and _through_ him. Words he had heard in Aperture like _Biohazardous material_ and _Untested for human consumption_ swirled in his head, adding up to one inescapable conclusion: His blood should _not_ be eaten.

Sophie was... pleasantly surprised at the food quality. True, she couldn't think of any way to ruin canned cranberry sauce, but that didn't mean her father couldn't manage it. This time though, apart from being a little sloppy, she couldn't see anything wrong with-

 _"Waaaait!"_ Wheatley burst into the room like a train wreck on two legs, quickly gathering up all the cranberry sauce and dumping it in the sink. "Don'teatthesauceIcutmyselfit'sgotbloodinit!"

Then, a thought coming into his head, he stuck a red stained finger in his mouth. "Oh...it's uh, cranberry juice. You…. wouldn't happen to have another can of that stuff would you?"


	22. Santa

**This year, I'm finally gonna do it. I'm gonna write a Christmas oneshot! As a special, nonsensical treat, GLaDOS will be narrating this pivotal moment in the Newell's lives.**

 **Timestamp: December 2104**

 _ **Twas the week before Christmas, "the world's**_ **happiest** _ **day"**_

*Sarcasm self test complete*

 _ **Shut up. The moron was prepping in his scatterbrained way.**_

"Ok, here's the plan. You distract Sophie long enough for Aaron to get here, then I'll tell him what she wants so he can guess-what does she want again?"

 _ **This year he was panicking, and what was his fear? His daughter was gaining some reason this year. Though the previous Chistmases all seemed the same, this year Sophie's started to see through the game, the dumb human tradition that still gives me pause, the lie told to children about "Santa Claus." This impossible being, all the humans will say, flies around the whole world in a**_ **magical** _ **sleigh. He gives presents to children that he deems are "nice," and lives in the arctic surrounded by ice.**_

"Chell, I-I'm being serious here, this is mission critical. I could _see_ the doubt in her eyes when we read her that story last night, and I just-it can't be over yet, it just _can't!_ She's only _five!_ "

 _ **Wheatley's strangely invested in this old yuletide hack, let's figure out why.  
**_

*Cue traumatic flashback*

Accessing C:\GLaDOS\Micellanious\Moron\BadMemories

" _Ahh, wake up and smell the_ [expletive redacted] _neurotoxin, ya bird-brained moron, it's not real! It's just a dumb_ [redacted] _picture book for babies! Not even robot babies! It don't even_ exist _!_ [redacted], _Even if it did, you see any robots in that book of yours? It's a_ human _thing, it ain't gonna work in_ here _! Ain't enough pointy trees and sparkly crap on earth to put_ that _right! Man, you're dumb! If I had fists and you had a face, I'd punch you so hard right now that my fist would go straight through your face!"_

 _He powered backwards, fuming. "Well, that's it. Rick's had enough. I got a list of cool stuff I could be doin' right now the length of your stupid tree, why should I waste my time hangin' round here with you?"_

 _By an arduous process of waggling his handles, Wheatley had finally managed to push himself the right way up, flipping awkwardly over. His voice cracked, dismayed, pleading._

" _Rick, mate- I swear, literally any minute now-"_

 _The Adventure core just stared down at him, his acid-green optic a narrow slit of disgust. He turned on his axis, zipping smoothly along his rail towards the maintenance exit high up in the wall._

" _Forget it. I'm gone. Happy_ fake _-mas, loser."_

 _ **Oh, it's been censored, good. That kind of language will not be tolerated here. Back to the story.**_

"Whaddya mean you can't come!? Aaron, Sophie is _hemorrhaging_ belief right now, she needs a transfusion from- OK bad metaphor, the point is, you need to be here!"

"I'm sorry Wheatley, but the stockroom is in shambles and everyone needs more ham. Someone else will have to be Santa this year."

" _Someone else?"_ _ **Wheatley thought as he hung up the phone,**_ _"What? Am I supposed to find an identical clone?"_ _ **It seemed this fragile fantasy was destined to fall, then his eyes turned to the red shirt on the wall.**_

"Well, I _could_ probably fit down the chimney…"

 _One week later_

"Ow, ow! Ohnonono-"

 **Crash**

Sophie and Chell ran toward the fireplace to investigate the noise. There, lying on the bed of logs in a very un-jolly heap, was Santa….if a thin skeletal being with no clue how to pull off the whole "chimney travel" thing could be called "Santa."

"Ho ho ho!" The man said in a strangely familiar British accent, "Merry Christmas and... all that."

"Santa? Sophie said quizzically, squinting at the stranger. "You look... thinner."

"Well if you must know, Mrs. Claus made me go on a diet, the hypocrite." Chell raised an eyebrow. "N-not that she's fat." 'Santa' backtracked hurriedly. "But I'm 90 percent sure she's giving the extra cookies to Rudolph, and heaven knows _that_ guy can barely fly anymore. Anyway, you must be Sophie. You've been a very good girl this year, except the time you stole a sack of your mum's flour to make a dough snowman."

Sophie smiled sheepishly. "You know about that?"

"Oh I know everything, got surveillance cameras everywhere, whole team of security...elves. I know that sounds creepy, but it's ok, because I'm Santa."

"Now…" Santa rubbed the back of his neck, exactly the way Wheatley did when he was nervous. "It seems I'm a bit early, so why don't you enjoy the rest of your Christmas Eve, and if you're all snug in your beds tonight, I'll come back with the presents, plus some cookies I nipped from Ruldolph's stash. Ok?"

Chell nodded, smiling. "Sounds good...Santa."

"Brilliant!" Santa said as he awkwardly tried to climb back up the chimney. "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-" he hesitated as his foot slipped. "You know what, I'll just take the door." And that he did.

 _"Brilliant job, as always."_ Wheatley congratulated himself as he ran around the back of the house. _"There is_ no _way she knew it was me."_

 _"That was some good acting."Sophie_ thought to herself in bed that night. " _There is no way that he knew that I knew it was-wait, did I say that right?"_

 _ **And now ABIGAIL, you can probably see the lengths humans go to pretend to be me. For I**_ **do** _ **see it all, every bad thing you do. And I- stop playing that dumb music, Blue!**_

Happy **[HOLIDAY NAME HERE]**


	23. Matchmaker

**This is a sequel to the "Valentine" oneshot I wrote a few years ago.**

Wheatley was a lot of things, but he wasn't oblivious. OK, fine he was totally oblivious most of the time, but every once in a while, what little social skill he had kicked in to inform him of something that was usually obvious to others. This time, he had abruptly realized that his daughter had a crush.

The first time he had noticed, when Sophie shared a dance with the boy, Jay, Wheatley had taken an instant dislike. Some long-dormant instinct insisted that he wasn't good enough for her, that _no one_ was good enough for her (sometimes, Wheatley scared himself). And yet, he had been where she was now, he had agonized over every word he never got to say, been unable to focus on anything else, been inexplicably _terrified_ of the simple act of conversation. So, since it was Valentine's Day, he figured he'd give Jay a pass, just this once.

While Sophie was searching for the fire extinguisher (Chell had learned long ago to always keep one nearby), Wheatley noticed a piece of paper.

" _A note? She really_ is _my daughter."_ Wheatley didn't bother reading whatever letter Sophie had written, if she was anything like him, she would throw it away at the last second. Instead, he wrote some helpful advice, the most helpful romantic advice that he had never gotten to use.

 _Just talk to he-him._

* * *

"So, how did it go?" Wheatley asked.

"It doesn't matter." Sophie said sullenly.

"C'mon, you can tell me!" Wheatley pressed, his "social interaction circuit" going dormant again. "To be honest I don't really have a plan beyond the initial talking, but we can work that out together-

"I was too late OK?" Sophie snapped, her eyes flaring in anger. "I got to his house and he was outside holding hands with-with bloody Sally Vance!"

Wheatley only dimly registered Sophie's use of a british swear, his blood was too busy boiling to actually travel to his brain. For the first time in 18 years, he found himself envisioning a mashy spike trap...with Jay on the other end of it.

 _Woah, calm down. That's not what Sophie needs right now. Also, I'm scaring me again._

"Well," Wheatley began hesitantly, "I can't say I know what that feels like-"

"You don't."

"But I do have one idea. I know I'm no substitute for...Jay, but...maybe we could have like a father-daughter date?"

Sophie smiled a little. "I think I'd like that."


	24. Blonde

**AN: I basically wrote this to explain the discrepancy between Sophie's hair in Littleinkling's "In Another Life," art, where she's blonde as a child, and my vision for her, where she has Chell's hair color**

 **Timestamp: 2107**

Sophie Newell took a deep breath. Summer was over, and while she didn't particularly _hate_ school, she did wish they would spend more time on stuff she needed to learn to be a doctor and less time on math.

She walked through the door, and her eyes swept over the room. There was Ellie, and the twins, and a couple other kids she didn't know the names of. And there in the front was-

"Class, we have a new student today." Mrs. Kent said. "Meet Sally Vance. Her great grandma was-"

"Alyx Vance," Sally interrupted. "Maybe you've heard of her?"

Almost immediately, the room erupted with questions: " _The_ Alyx Vance?" Did you ever meet her?" Did she marry Freeman?" "Did you ever meet a vortigaunt?"

"Class, I'm sure Sally will answer all your questions later. Sally, why don't you tell us about yourself?"

"I grew up in the city, but my parents got sick of all the noise, so they moved us to this...place." Sally said. "I was pretty popular back home, and I hope I can make lots of friends here too!" She flashed a grin in that practiced way people do in front of a camera.

"Watch out for her." Ellie whispered from next to her. "She feels like trouble."

Later that day at recess, Sally cornered Sophie behind the schoolhouse.

"Look kid, you've got potential. I should know, I'm famous." Sally began. "Stick with me and you'll go places. I don't make this offer lightly but...wanna be besties?"

"Uhh, sure, we could hang out. I'll go get Ellie."

"Woah woah woah, I asked _you,_ not her. I don't hang out with just anybody, especially not weirdos like her."

"Weird?" Sophie said incredulously. "Ellie's _not_ weird."

"Oh come on! Didn't you hear what she said earlier? Normal people don't just say somebody's pet is gonna die!"

"But she was right!"

"And that's _weird!"_

Sophie was getting mad now. "Look, me and Ellie have been best friends since Kindergarten. You get both of us, or none of us, and right now it's looking like none of us."

Sally's face darkened. "You're gonna regret that. " She said as she stormed away. " _Nobody_ says no to Sally Vance."

"Right again Sophie." Ellie said as she put away her biology textbook. "At this rate, you'll get into med school in-"

"I'm sorry, _med school?_ " Sally interrupted, "You want to be a doctor?"

"Yeah?" Sophie replied. "Why shouldn't I?"

"Well for one thing, you've never been to a real school, and for another-" Sally looked around like it should be obvious. "You're _blonde._ No one would take you seriously! _"_

One of Sally's new friends was confused. "And what's wrong with being blonde?"

"Oh come on! Haven't any of you seen that comic?" Kids around the schoolyard looked blankly back at her. "Ugh, country kids. I'll show you guys later." She looked at Sophie, "especially _you_."

Sure enough, the next day Sophie found a clip out of a newspaper in her desk. The comic strip was called _Dumb Blonde._

The comics didn't stop, and neither did Sally's teasing. Sophie tried to ignore it ( _"Don't let them get to you."_ her mom always said. _"Getting upset is exactly what they want.")_ , but Sally was attacking her _dream_ (well, her hair, but it was distantly related to her dream).

By Friday, Sally was quoting that stupid comic every chance she got. Sophie had had enough. That evening, she went out and used her allowance to buy a bottle of hair dye. _"Dark_ _brown,"_ she thought, _"Just like mom."_

It was tough, but thankfully Sophie had not inherited her father's "clutz gene," and she managed to apply the dye without staining anything. Mercifully, her parents didn't say anything the next day.

 **7 years later. December 2114**

"Sophie, I'm so sorry, I couldn't find your hair dye! Maybe you could try a different color like...blue! Yeah! Everybody in the cartoons have got blue hair. You gotta have blue hair!...if you're in a cartoon."

"That's alright dad." Sophie said. After fighting Her, having blonde hair was nothing. She had really only been doing it out of habit anyway, and anything was better than electric blue.

 **AN: Oh, it's a hidden reference, a thing for you to find! If you can find the reference, you've got my kind of mind!**

 **I figure Sophie would alternate between blonde and brunette after In Another Life, like my hypothetical actor for her, Emily Rudd (but younger).**


End file.
